Fireside
by onepieceofcake
Summary: She had thought that just being with him for the rest of her life would enough, but this, laying beside him, hearing his breath yet not being to reach out and whisper every word that was in her heart was infinitely more painful than she had imagined. A Charlotte/Henry piece set at the end of Clockwork Prince. Because I need these two in my life.


A loveless marriage she could have endured.

A marriage of duty. A marriage of sacrifice.

Charlotte Branwell could have survived all of them. But not this. Not being married to the only man she had ever wanted, to pine for him and to have him merely care for her.

It was times like this that hurt her. Like this morning when she had talked about meeting with Woolsey Scott, she had been begging Henry to just look at her, to offer to go with her. To take her hand face the challenge by her side.

But it never happened, he never looked up never offered to come with her and she hadn't asked him too. She would go by herself, just as she was now by herself in the room she shared with her husband. Henry was probably still down in his laboratory, and he probably wasn't even coming to bed.

Charlotte let a tear fall, before quickly wiping it away.

Surely he must love her a little? If he didn't, would his hands be so gentle, his touch so caring on the rare nights she spent in his arms? And surely she hadn't imagined that she had heard him whisper her name one night and awaken to him pulling her closer in the dark hours just before dawn. It was times like those that she would wake up and hope, maybe things would be different the next day. Maybe he would kiss her goodbye or spend the evening with her in the library, but the morning would come and he would already be up, working in the crypt, the pillow beside her cold. She would barely even see him and Henry wouldn't come out of his laboratory even for mealtimes.

She had kissed him once. It had been after a mission where he had very nearly been killed and she had been so dizzy with relief to see him walking back to the Institute, leaning against Will that she had rushed forward and kissed him without thinking, and for one heady moment he had kissed her back before stumbling away like he had been burned.

She stopped trying to touch him then. She didn't have a desire to make advances that were unwanted. So she savoured the little things, like when he helped her down from the carriage and for one moment his hands were around her waist and she could meet his eyes, or the quick peck he gave her on the lips before rushing away.

Charlotte pulled her robe around her tightly, she hadn't bothered to have Sophie come and light a fire, what was the point, she would soon be fast asleep anyway. Before she was married she had dreamed of nights by the fireside with Henry, his hair matching the color of the flames, long talks where he would explain all the brilliant thoughts he always had tumbling around in his mind, and long sweet kisses.

She sighed and moved to crawl under the covers. She was just turning out the light when the door opened. Henry came in looking rather preoccupied, goggles still on his head and a stack of blueprints and notes in his arms. She sat up, the noise caught his attention.

"Charlotte," He looked up, eyes worried. "I didn't wake you did I? I thought you would already be asleep."

 _Why would I be asleep, I was waiting for you._

The thoughts threatened to spill over onto her lips, but she merely shook her head.

"I was just turning out the light."

"Oh." he said, setting the papers down on the end table.

"Do you want me to leave it on?" She asked.

"Hm?" He looked up from the notebook he had been scribbling in. "Leave what on darling?"

Charlotte sighed. "The light Henry."

"Oh no, I'll turn it out, I'll be done in a moment."

She lay back down and watched him as he continued writing in his notebook, then placed it on the table, his goggles next to it. He turned out the light, in the dark she could hear the rustlings of him preparing for bed. The mattress dipped as he slid under the covers beside her. So close yet it felt he was worlds away.

"Charlotte." He said into the dark. "I know you've been very busy lately, and I know I haven't been able to help you much-" He stopped like he didn't know what to say next. "I'm sorry about today. I was so preoccupied with my new invention I didn't think for a second you wanted me to go with you to see Woolsey Scott."

"It's alright dear." Charlotte said.

"Lottie."

Her eyes slid shut at the sound of the name only he used.

"I wish you would tell me these things more often. When you want me to go with you that is." He continued to speak.

"There's just been so much going on, I don't feel I have time to think about anything other Mortmain and the Institute" _and you._ She thought, but didn't dare speak the words aloud.

"I know." He said.

He shifted beside her. Searching for her hand in the bedclothes, he gave it squeeze.

"I care a great deal what you want Charlotte, you know that right?"

"I know that." She echoed him softly. Before she could think he turned and pressed a kiss on her cheek. She could feel prickle of his beard and the warmth of his breath against her skin and for a second her eyes slid shut. But just as suddenly as the kiss had come, he was pulling away, rolling over to the side of the bed far away from her. Charlotte turned and hugged her pillow, willing herself to go to sleep. She had thought that just being by his side for the rest of her life would enough, but this, laying beside him, hearing his breath yet not being to reach out and whisper every word that was in her heart was infinitely more painful than she had imagined.

" _You are beautiful. And I didn't ask you're father if I could marry you out of duty; I did it because I loved you. I have always loved you. I am your_ husband. _"_

The words twirled around her head. Her cheeks growing warm thinking about the way he had kissed her that day. And now after the meeting with Benedict Lightwood, and all that had transpired she was finally able to stop and think. She lowered herself onto the small sofa by fireside, glad she had the warmth in her room on the chilly London night.

Henry really cared for her. Not just cared for her, he loved her. Just as she loved him. She moved a hand to her abdomen, suddenly feeling less anxious about the news she would soon share with him.

"Darling."

She looked up to see Henry opening the door, this time arms empty of papers.

"May I sit with you awhile?"

She smiled. "Please."

He sat beside her.

"The meeting with Benedict Lightwood went well I presume?" He asked.

She nodded. "As well as you would expect. I'm glad Gideon came here, I only wish Gabriel would follow."

"You don't know when someone's heart may change." he said simply.

"I know, but I hate to see Gideon hurting so, and Gabriel hurts too, I could see it in his eyes. I wish I could do more to help."

"We're stopping Mortmain I think you're doing a great deal of helping."

She looked at him, in his wide sweet eyes. "I want to do more Henry."

"I know you do." He took her hand and gently pressed his lips against the back of it. "Charlotte, my sweet compassion Charlotte." he murmured.

Suddenly she wasn't thinking of anything save her husband beside her. He moved closer till there was no space between them.

"Out of the things in this world I have had the opportunity to observe, you are the finest Charlotte Branwell."

She didn't breathe let alone speak as he kissed her cheek, her jawline and finally her lips. She returned the kiss with all the love she had saved up in her heart, her fingers weaving their way through his hair.

He pulled away.

"Five years Lottie," He breathed, face buried in the crook of her neck "How did we go five years without knowing how much we both loved each other?"

Charlotte stroked his hair, letting her hand rest on his shoulder. "I don't need to try and make sense of it all, this right now is all I ever wanted."

And there by the fire with Henry exchanging long sweet kisses, Charlotte knew she spoke the truth.


End file.
